


Courage

by DreamerInSilico



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 10:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamerInSilico/pseuds/DreamerInSilico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard and Kasumi help each other get... out of the box.  In some ways, literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Courage

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted in piecemeal on Tumblr.

“I… I can’t. This was a bad idea.” Shepard shook her head, scattering errant wisps of flame-red hair about her eyes, and turned back toward the table. 

“Oh no. No take-backs, Shepard. You said you would.” Kasumi was grinning, eyes impish and for once, unobscured by her customary hood. ”You made it this far, and you are going to _dance_ and have _fun_ if it _kills_ you.” The thief pursed her painted lips thoughtfully. ”Or me. Much more likely to kill me. Oh well - worth it anyway!” 

Shepard fidgeted, profoundly uncomfortable in the civilian’s clothes she wore, even though the soft tunic and pants would allow ample freedom of movement, should she need to get away quickly…

But Kasumi, ever shrewd, seemed to intercept this line of reasoning before it could even resolve itself into an attempted escape. ”C’mere,” she ordered, tugging her commander firmly by the arm, but toward the bar, rather than the dance floor. She spoke to the bartender briefly, and quickly collected two tubes of bright liquid that glowed faintly in the club lighting. ”Drink up,” she said with a grin, handing one to Shepard and downing the second herself in one long swallow. 

The liquor was bright and just the slightest bit sweet, and… really quite good, actually. Shepard would have to ask what it was, later. For now…

…Woah. 

That shit was _strong_. 

While she was still registering the flavor and the realization that she was about to be feeling its effects very shortly (skipping dinner had not been prudent, in hindsight) Kasumi was strong-arming her to the dance floor. Then they were in the crowd of people, and the devil-woman had both of Shepard’s wrists firmly in hand so that she could not leave without making a scene. 

“Alright, you’re here! Hard part’s done!” Kasumi trilled over the deep, heavy thrum of the bass. 

“But I don’t know what I’m - “

“Doesn’t matter! You can start slow - see that turian over there?” 

“Yeah…”

“Copy him.” 

“But - “

“Come on, Shepard, you look _scared_.”

Shepard glared daggers at the smaller woman, but that got her moving. The turian was really just… stepping and nodding. She could do that. 

Of course, just as she was starting to get comfortable, Kasumi had grabbed her hands again and twirled her into a spin. And then the thief was weaving some complicated pattern with her hands and circling Shepard, and… and Shepard was matching her, sinking to almost a fighter’s crouch, but keeping her arms supple, and…

…how had the damned thief gotten her into this? She’d have to kick her ass later, if she could convince herself this wasn’t quite so much fun. 

......

“Kasumi?” 

“Yes, Shepard?” The petite woman’s voice was rich with amusement as she leaned back against the railing, visibly trying not to look too smug, but also very visibly failing at the same. 

Shepard felt obligated to glower at her for a moment, out of principle if no real irritation – Kasumi had been after her for days about this night on the town, and then had practically dragged her to the nightclub and onto the dance floor, but it had been… Well, it had been a lot of fun, and the buzz from that wonderful glowy liquor was still going strong, so while Shepard had the distant sense that she should be annoyed, it didn’t seem terribly important at present. 

“…Thanks. For teaching me how to dance.” 

The thief’s lips turned up at the corners, but she didn’t smirk, or laugh, to Shepard’s surprise. “You’re welcome.” Her smile became a wry grin. “Thanks for putting up with me being pushy and not clocking me or pulling rank or something. It meant a lot, and I’ve gotta say – you were great, really. You shouldn’t worry so much.” 

Ridiculously, Shepard found her cheeks heating despite the cool almost-breeze of the Presidium. She was _blushing_. Anette Shepard, the fearless Spectre, did not _blush_. 

Well, apparently she did. Damnit. 

“I had fun,” she said, hoping Kasumi wouldn’t notice, but knowing she almost certainly would. 

“Good.” Suddenly, almost decisively, Kasumi straightened from her lazy stance against the rail, and reached up with one gloved hand to run a light finger across the taller woman’s cheekbone and down her jaw. Shepard blinked in surprise, feeling gooseflesh spring up all over her arms, and the silence all at once seemed a charged thing, like the moment just before the trigger is pulled on a sniper rifle. 

To Shepard’s relief, Kasumi broke it first. “It’s still early yet – I could use another drink. Come with me?” 

......

‘Another’ drink had become two, and two had become three, and Shepard could feel the alcohol’s warmth in the tip of her nose and along tops of her ears. The conversation had been… pleasant. Very pleasant. Kasumi had - mostly - ceased to tease her about dancing, and instead they’d been swapping stories with ever-increasing embellishment. 

The thief was laughing her low, rubbed-velvet laugh at the finale to Shepard’s most recent offering. ”Ah, Shepard, I actually managed to get Thane to tell me that one, after the mission” she gasped, delighted, “but he lacks your flair for the dramatic, I must say.” 

Laughing herself, Shepard gave a little half-bow from her seat. ”Thank you, thank you.” 

“I’ve been talking to him quite a bit lately,” Kasumi murmured more quietly. Something had shifted, whether it was the way the light hit her dark eyes or some tension in the air, and Shepard found herself both curious and a bit apprehensive about the reason. 

“What about?” She normally wouldn’t have asked such a question, but it felt like the thief was waiting for it. 

“Memories. He knows a lot about them… as you might expect.” 

_Right. She had a lover_. The thought was a surprisingly heavy one. 

Kasumi continued. ”I really think I was just looking for someone to tell me what I knew already, all things considered. But, it worked.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I erased the files in the greybox, finally. Figured it was time to wake up.” 

Shepard blinked, feeling her flush spread under Kasumi’s deceptively careless gaze. “And is that what you’re doing, here, with me?” 

The painted lips quirked upward, and she tossed back the rest of her drink. ”I’d say it’s a start.”

“Absolutely.”

......

_Two_.

_One, and…_

When Kasumi’s flashbang went off with a _crack_ , Shepard was up a millisecond later, bullseyeing three dazzled mercenaries in quick succession. The thief herself was already well out of sight, quick as a spring breeze on a mountain, and just as capricious. 

Yet Shepard’s instincts twitched, leading her to send out a pulse of tuned interference _there_ … and the other merc yelped as his gun overheated in his hands as he was taking aim at a reappeared Kasumi. Shepard’s eyes were quick, but almost not quick enough to catch the flashed smile from across the warehouse before her companion blinked out of sight again. 

_That_ merc could be safely ignored - she fired off another bullet with almost careless precision to take out the one two crates over - and the batarian she had just passed over fell to Kasumi’s point-blank pistol blast a moment later. 

“It’s not even _fair_ when the two of you get like this,” Garrus muttered over the commlink as he finally succeeded in dropping an opponent before either of the women got to her. 

“D’you mean to the mercs, or to you, Vakarian?” Shepard fired back with a tight grin. 

“Both. What is that human idiom you use about aquatic vertebrates and small containers, again?” 

“Like shooting fish in a barrel,” Kasumi supplied, her silky voice smug. Another batarian crumpled, and she flitted away again. 

“Yeah, that. Only they’re drugged fish. Or dead, like the ones in Shepard’s quarters, half the time.” 

“Hey!” 

The skirmish ended easily, and the trio swept carefully through the large room to make sure there weren’t any nasty surprises waiting for them before they moved on. For a moment when Shepard paused, there was a lithe shadow by her side, and Kasumi’s voice, off comms and for her ears alone. 

“And you still think you aren’t much of a dancer, Shepard?” 

......

The lab door opened with a hiss, and Kasumi slipped through, annoyed out of habit more than any particular necessity that there was no such thing as a silent entry on this ship. The chemical tang of whatever Mordin’s most recent project was greeted her in a rush of cool air. 

The salarian himself was bent over a microscope. ”Miss Goto. Good. Hoped you would visit soon,” he said, without looking up. 

“How’d you know it was me?” she asked, shaking her head bemusedly. 

She could hear one of his smug smiles in his voice as he answered. ”Footsteps silent. Assassin similar, but always speaks upon entry. Would remind you that sneaking about the Normandy is unnecessary, but understand desire to stay in practice.” 

The thief snorted and pulled a small case of vials out of her belt. ”I have those biologicals you asked for, from the last mission.” 

Mordin finally looked up. ”Ahh, excellent! Most appreciative. Can complete analysis while en route to Omega, then integrate data during stay.” 

“You’re not going to take any leave?” Kasumi asked. ”Shepard made it clear there would be time.” 

He waved a dismissive hand. ”Am assured that clinic runs smoothly without me. Only reason I would consider debarking - am not fond of nightclubs.” 

“That’s a shame; the dance floors are a sociological gold mine.” 

“True, but frivolous.” Mordin’s wide mouth tilted up slyly. ”Wouldn’t want to intrude on you and the Commander, in any case.” 

“…” For the first time in many, many years, Kasumi Goto found herself momentarily speechless. 

The salarian continued, clearly amused. ”Behavior subtle, but clear. Easy to see, once baseline interaction with other crew established. Recommend action. Commander is too accustomed to human military protocol to initiate.” 

“I…” Kasumi crossed her arms over her chest. ”Look, Mordin. It’s not quite that simple. Humans tend to get… awkward around offers they didn’t expect and don’t want, and Shepard’s… a very good friend. She loosens up a bit around me, and I don’t want to guess wrong and end that.” 

If he’d had eyebrows, she was sure he’d be raising one. ”Risk aversion? Am surprised, Miss Goto - highly atypical.” 

She knew she’d most likely find all this funny later, but just then, she was getting _out_ of the tech lab and _away_ from that damned smirking and altogether-too-observant salarian. 

......

“You know… this place actually reminds me a bit of somewhere I used to go when I was a kid,” Shepard said, enjoying the slight, contented haze of just the right number of drinks. 

“A club on _Omega_ reminds you of your childhood, Shepard?” Kasumi laughed. Her brows were hidden beneath her dark hood, but Shepard could tell by the way her eyes widened that she was raising them incredulously. ”I mean, I know you have a history with the gangs, but I’m impressed there’d be anything this particular caliber of seedy on Earth, even if you did grow up in the US…” 

Shepard ran her fingers through her bright hair and felt herself smirking as she returned, “Have you been cyberstalking me? Wait, don’t answer that; I’m not sure whether to be afraid or flattered.” 

The thief, naturally, answered anyway, gesturing elegantly with her glass. ”Of course I have. Standard operating procedure.” The pulsing, red lights of the club caught in her dark eyes and made them glitter. More than usual. ”Although… if it would flatter you, I could always dig deeper…” 

Suddenly Shepard was very, very glad the lights were mostly red as she felt her face heat. ”Or you could always ask. I’d tell you, you know.” She smiled, mirroring the slight one that was playing about Kasumi’s lips. ”It was a warehouse, actually, not a club - that Afterlife reminds me of, I mean. Same lights, same feeling that you’re walking into the jaws of some very temperamental creature.” 

“Always living dangerously, then?” Kasumi ran a fingertip around the rim of her now-empty tumbler, seemingly fascinated with it. 

“Sometimes I wonder,” Shepard chuckled wryly. ”All that stuff? Feels normal. I’m sure you know what I mean. Other things, little things that are just supposed to be part of life - as art and literature and the media would have it, anyway - those are a lot more… difficult.” 

“Hmm. I do know what you mean.” She looked up from the glass, meeting Shepard’s eyes, her shadowed face curious. ”So, in the spirit of ‘living dangerously’…” Her lips quirked upward. ”If I were to do something… ill-advised… right about now, would I be allowed to blame it on all this lovely alcohol later?” 

Shepard blinked, then laughed. ”I don’t believe for a second that you’re actually drunk, but if you need an excuse for something, you may certainly use that one.”

“You’re too generous, Shepard.” That low-pitched, rich sentence should not even have been audible over the din of the club, but Kasumi had leaned closer, and her fine-boned hand was rising to Shepard’s jaw… and her lips followed, soft and warm and tasting only very faintly of alcohol.


End file.
